


Reading Dante

by Sondheimgirl19



Category: The Favourite (2018)
Genre: F/F, Falling In Love, First Kiss, Fluff, Pre-Canon, Reading Aloud, Young Love
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-01-25
Updated: 2019-01-25
Packaged: 2019-10-16 00:22:59
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,215
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17539145
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Sondheimgirl19/pseuds/Sondheimgirl19
Summary: "Quando leggemmo il disiato risoesser basciato da cotanto amante,questi, che mai da me non fia diviso,la bocca mi basciò tutto tremante.Galeotto fu ’l libro e chi lo scrisse:quel giorno più non vi leggemmo avante."«When we read about the joy of being kissed by a beloved person, he, from whom I’ll never be parted, trembled as he kissed my lips. Gallehault was the book and who wrote it. From that day on we read no more.»A second of silence passes.«Why do you think he was trembling?» Anne whispers.«Maybe he wasn’t sure he had her love.»Anne and Sarah read Dante. They discover something along the way





	Reading Dante

They’re sitting on the grass, under the summer’s sun, laughing and talking, stealing careful glances, still unsure about their feelings and inclinations.

«Look what Mary gave me Sarah! She says that this book is the most famous in Italy, even peasants know it. She says that is so beautiful that everybody can see its beauty.» Anne is beaming, jumping up and down, the book in her hand.

«What is it Anne? It’s seems so long!»

«It’s a poem Sarah. This poet is passing through Hell, Purgatory and Paradise just to see his beloved again. Isn’t it romantic?»

The princess sighs, her eyes closed, cheeks pink, thinking about only God knows what. And yet, Sarah swears she has never seen a lovelier sight. She tries not to think of it, afraid she’ll make a fool of herself.

«Well, are we going to read it or not?»

Anne opens her eyes, blushing.

«Of course, yes. Maria says her favourite- oh what are they called- ah yes- canto, is the fifth of the Inferno.»

«Let’s begin, then.»

She naturally reaches for the book. She opens it. And the book is in Italian. She should have expected it. After all, Anne’s stepmother is Italian. How perfect, how wonderful. She doesn’t know Italian. French, German, even Latin she mastered, but Italian. She feels disappointed. She wanted to impress her.

_“What?”_

«I’m afraid I don’t know Italian your highness. Perhaps next time you could ask beforehand if you want to read in a foreign language.» She tries to be cold, to hurt before being hurt. She immediately regrets it.

Anne’s face falls. But then she gives her companion a timid smile, looking at her from under her lashes. «M-Maybe I could read it to you. And teach you.» The princess bites her lips, unsure. Sarah, against her will, smiles at her, more softly than she would have wanted.

“ _What the hell are you doing, do you want to scare her off?”_

«I suppose that would be fine.»

Anne lets out a squeal, book in her hand, ready to read. Sarah watches the other girl as she reads in a language that she doesn’t understand. She can hear its beauty, even though she doesn’t understand a word. Anne begins to translate, telling her of Dante and his guide, Vergil; telling her of Minos, the judge of the underworld, and his tail; telling her of the damned souls the Poet and his Maestro are about to meet, the carnal sinners. And they read of Semiramis, Helen of Troy, Achilles and Cleopatra.

Until

 

 _I_  ' _cominciai: «Poeta, volontieri_

_parlerei a quei due che ’nsieme vanno,_

_e paion sì al vento esser leggeri»._

 

_Ed elli a me: «Vedrai quando saranno_

_più presso a noi; e tu allor li priega_

_per quello amor che i mena, ed ei verranno»._

 

 _S_   _ì_ _tosto come il vento a noi li piega,_

_mossi la voce: «O anime affannate,_

_venite a noi parlar, s’altri nol niega!»._        

 

«He has seen two souls. He’s wondering why they are together, and he is asking if he can talk with them. His Maestro says yes, but he must wait until they are closer.»

Closer. Indeed. Sarah thinks they’re really close right now. Their shoulders are almost touching.

«What happens then?»

«He’s calling them. Asks if he can ask about their death.»

«And what do they say?»

Anne furrows her brow: she doesn’t want to let Sarah down, but the language is not easy and a bit different from the one she’s been taught.

_“You can do it Anne.”_

«Well, it’s a couple you see. A man and a woman. She’s telling him her story. They were murdered, I think. Don’t you find it so very sad?» The girl grips Sarah’s hand.

«I do, indeed.» Murmurs the other. She looks at their joined hand. She feels strange. She feels a rush of blood.

Anne sweet voice is reading again.

_«Amor, ch’al cor gentil ratto s’apprende_

_prese costui de la bella persona_

_che mi fu tolta; e ’l modo ancor m’offende._

 

_Amor, ch’a nullo amato amar perdona,_

_mi prese del costui piacer sì forte,_

_che, come vedi, ancor non m’abbandona._

 

_Amor condusse noi ad una morte:_

_Caina attende chi a vita ci spense»._

_Queste parole da lor ci fuor porte._

 

«Love fast captures a gentle person’s heart. And that is why it captivated Paolo’s body, which was taken from me, and the way still offends me. Love, that doesn’t take denial from the loved one, caught me so deeply that I still love him in the depths of hell. Love brought us to certain death. The deepest hell waits for our murderer. Oh Sarah, isn’t it tragic? And heart wrenching?»

Sarah nods, slowly leaning closer to the princess, her heart drumming against her ribcage, feeling the fleeting glances of Anne on her.

_  
_

_«Ma dimmi: al tempo d’i dolci sospiri,_

_a che e come concedette Amore_

_che_ _conosceste i dubbiosi disiri?»_

 

«He’s asking her to tell him how they realised they were in love.» Anne looks straight at her. Her cheeks pinker than usual. Sarah’s breath has stopped, and she knows that her own cheeks now bear the same colour of the girl in front of her.

_  
_

_«Noi leggevamo un giorno per diletto_

_di Lancialotto come amor lo strinse;_

_soli eravamo e sanza alcun sospetto_

_  
_

_Per più fiate gli occhi ci sospinse_

_quella lettura, e scolorocci il viso;_

_ma solo un punto fu quel che ci vinse_

 

«We were reading about Lancelot and his love for Guinevere, and, as we went on, our eyes were drawn together, our faces pale, but we only fell at one point.»

Brown meets brown.

Sarah can see her friend’s chest rising and falling. They have never been this close. A strand of Anne’s hair has rebelliously escaped from her ribbons. She longs to touch it. She longs to touch her. And her own heart is beating so fast.

Anne seems lost in her world. She’s no longing looking at the book, but at her, her lips slightly parted. Sarah’s breath is mingling with hers.

«Go on. Please.»

Colour seems drained from Anne’s lovely face, as she resumes her reading.

_  
_

_Quando leggemmo il disiato riso_

_esser basciato da cotanto amante,_

_questi, che mai da me non fia diviso,_

_  
_

_l_ _a bocca mi basciò tutto tremante._

_Galeotto fu ’l libro e chi lo scrisse:_

_quel giorno più non vi leggemmo avante»._

 

«When we read about the joy of being kissed by a beloved person, he, from whom I’ll never be parted, trembled as he kissed my lips. Gallehault was the book and who wrote it. From that day on we read no more.»

A second of silence passes.

«Why do you think he was trembling?» Anne whispers.

«Maybe he wasn’t sure he had her love.» Sarah looks at the princess. She wonders if Anne can understand what she’s trying to say.

«But of course, he must have known it! Why wouldn’t she love him?» Sarah can feel the desperation in her tone, her eyes bounded to hers.

Their hands are still entwined.

She raises the other hand, tenderly touching Anne’s cheek.

«You are trembling Sarah.»

«I suppose I am.» She leans in, kissing her softly.

 

She tries to show Anne she’s sure of herself, of what she’s doing. But she trembles all the same.

**Author's Note:**

> Hello again!  
> I should be studying, but I have three stories in my head, and this one was begging me to be written.  
> Anyway, If you know something about the Commedia, you'll notice that some of the things that Anne says are...inaccurate, to say the least. But I thought that, if you read the Commedia as a 16 years old, without anyone to explain it to you, and in a language that you're still learning, some mistakes are acceptable. And well, they're reading what they want to read to express their feelings.  
> Hope you liked it!


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